Semper Fi
by SWNV
Summary: As Southern California is destroyed by a virus, the men and women of 1st Recon fight for their survival.


Just another day in the Corps.   That's what we thought when we awoke that morning. But Life is crazy. Not in a million years could we have guessed what was quickly making its way toward us. How were we to know that planning for a suicide mission would have saved our lives?

We were in isolation training for an upcoming mission to Tora Bora when the shit hit the fan. The regular isolation building was in use so command set us up in the ammo bunker complex. Originally made for 'special' weapons which needed extra security, the half buried bunker complex was surrounded by high concrete walls and contained its own armory and power source. The structure Resembles a small prison and was designed to repel any sorry terrorists who had made it this far onto the base.

We were four days into isolation when we suddenly felt the walls couldn't be thick enough. That morning started like any other for the members of 1st Platoon, Force recon 11th MEU. It was a beautiful morning at Camp Pendelton, the California sunshine was just burning through the morning fog. We had just finished morning PT when a runner from command came barreling down the dirt road to our little outpost. The hummer slid to a stop outside the gate and four heavily armed marines jumped out.

"Capt. Hicks!!" came the harried shout from outside the wall. The staff weenie looking unusually uncomfortable, even with the three guards. Captain Hicks hit the button to open the steel gates and strode out to the officer.

"Yes" Hicks replied.

"Our MP's have been dispatched to a civil disturbance in San Diego. They have been gone for several hours and we have dispatched air units to keep an eye on them. Civilian radio is spotty and their reports are largely discounted. Since the MEU is on its way to Pearl for exercises the commander wants you to gear up and be ready to provide base security" the officer said, "stay in isolation until we come back, we don't want to screw up your primary mission if we don't have to."

"Understood sir " Hicks replied " It must be a bad one if they are calling in military units."

"We have no real idea" came the cryptic answer. With that we buttoned up the gate, the hummer rumbled away, and we geared up.

"Another fucking case of hurry up and wait!" Ramirez exclaimed several hours later. Except now we could see smoke and haze coming from the south.

"Turn on the radio" Hicks said to Jones the R.O.

"...pulling back to mission Valley"..."say again 1st platoon?"..."we are about to be overrun and are pulling back to the fashion show mall in Mission Valley"..."command this is air unit one, 1st platoon is popping smoke for close air support , am I clear to engage?"..."air one, this is command, you are clear to engage if you have positive ID that there are no friendlies in the rioters"..."command, air one.. how the hell am I going to do that?... it's a large group of civvies closing quickly on 1st platoon, they are going to need support...do I have permission to engage?"..."air one, command..wait one" after a minute long pause…"air one, negative you are not clear to engage without positive ID"..."command.. it's too late 1st platoon is overrun...I am streaming the video to you now..."

"what the Hell?" Private Collins exclaimed.

"Gunny!!" Hicks yelled.

"Sir" Gunny Sykes replied.

"Take 2nd team down to the Op center and find out what the hell is going on."

" Aye-Aye sir...2nd team on me, let's take a ride."

Hicks then turned to his other team leaders "1st and 3rd team lets work with a purpose. Lets button this place up...1st platoon police up the area and break out the deployment packs.. 3rd team make sure the compo und is secure and then man the wall." Had we known that was the last time we would all be together, alive, we might have said something. But we just went about our work as 2nd team took off down the hill in 2 humvees.

Breakdown in Command

The humvees bounced down the road toward the center of the base. The roar of the diesel dampening out any outside sounds. Gunny Sykes looked over at his driver, Ramirez and noticed that the private's knuckles were white from gripping the wheel so tightly. As gunny wondered what was going through his mind he followed Ramirez gaze down the hill passed the base into Oceanside. Smoke plumes could be seen rising there now. Whatever was happening it was getting closer.

As they passed the across the main road out of the base Carlson, who was driving the second humvee got a quick glance of firing down by the main gate.

"What the hell was that!" exclaimed PFC Rodgers from the back seat.

"Yeah I saw it too" Called out Pvt. Simpson who was riding shotgun.

The radio let out a blast of static, making them all jump. Gunny's voice boomed out "2nd team, lock and load, I don't know what's going on but we think we saw the main gate firing on civvies."

The trucks continued to roll passed empty buildings, some doors left open others with dependents peeping out, terrified. The smoke was visible here. Rolling in from outside the base. Other trucks and humvees loaded with trooped went in all directions.

The humvees slid to a stop outside the ops center, a squat two-story building with no windows and a single entry point. Usually the doors are propped open and soldiers are moving in and out. Today sandbags were hastily being piled up to form fighting positions and to create a 'mantrap' in front of the front door where troops could pour fire on anyone coming close.

Jumping out Gunny Sykes told the others "Secure the vehicles, I'm going in to find out what the hell is going on."

The guards nervously eyed gunny. They entered the entry code and gunny strode through the door.

Passing another checkpoint gunny was admitted into the control center. It was chaos. The large overhead screens showed large crowds of injured people, rioting, fighting…biting. Some screens were from video units on Marine vehicles as they raced through the crowds knocking people down and never slowing. In some overhead shots troops, and what looked like SWAT or police were shooting into the crowd. Bodies were falling in waves, but those people behind the sriken momentarily lost their footing on the gore and then kept moving forward toward the police and military.

What the hell? thought Gunny. Everyone has gone crazy! The military is deployed in an American city and firing on rioters and those same rioters are ignoring their own welfare to close the distance between them and the troops.

Marines sat at their posts in the command center, frantically relaying orders, most of them pull back orders. It was obvious to Gunny the situation was out of control.

Suddenly a pull on his shoulder brought him back to reality.

"What unit are you?" a short Sergeant asked.

"1st platoon Recon" Gunny replied

"Have you been tasked? It's a hell of a mess." The Sergeant added.

"Just what the hell is going on?" Gunny asked with a pissed off look on his face.

"It depends who you ask but I think it's the end of the world. You see those people " he said pointing to the screen "they are tearing apart and eating other people!" And now that he looked it did appear that whenever a new person was overcome the crowd pounced on the body.

One of the marines at a console announced ' They are bringing in some wounded by helo to the hospital. The second helo loaded with wounded has just crashed outside the perimeter. We heard normal chatter, then a lot of yelling and then the chopper lost control.

Gunny heard two officers arguing in the corner and decided to get in closer to hear.

"Look I'm just telling you what I think." The Major said.

"Don't tell me bullshit ghost stories tell me the facts." The Colonel answered.

"O.K. the facts. 3rd platoon was sent in a blocking maneuver and tasked with holding an intersection. A crowd of 500 injured people advanced on 3rd platoon, ignoring oncoming fire and multiple injuries and when they reached the platoon they ATE them. Over watch then confirms that those marines not completely torn apart got up and joined the crowd continuing on down the street toward recon ones position. How is that for facts!" The man was shouting now, not even trying to conceal his terror.

"Sir, the hospital is reporting a disturbance." Another Marine said, "They are reporting that the injured from the helicopter have started attacking staff and other patients in the hospital."

The Colonel thought for a moment and then answered, "Send the reserve squad down there to straighten this out, by the way how is the perimeter?"

"It is holding sir, " the radio operator answered, "but we are getting frantic calls from the main gate for reinforcements."

"Sir, the hospital is announcing an immediate evacuation. They state that attacks are continuing and growing in size."

"Sir…Sir…What are your orders….Sir!" The operator shouted.

Hell in a hand basket

Sgt. Kilgore slammed the phone down and looked out the guard shack window. Pushing the outside of the gate and extending another 100 meters to each side of his position the crazed, sickly and mutilated crowd kept cramming in closer and closer to the fence. Their wrecked and torn bodies relentless in their effort to get through to his marines. His MP's were firing indiscriminately into the crowd through the fence. God, he thought, there must be a thousand of them now. The front row of bodies was shredded and being pushed up against the gate by the relentless crowd from behind. These were obviously the residents of Oceanside, drawn here by the small arms fire, unfortunately if his marines didn't keep firing the base would be overrun. Although scared, his marines felt safer with their comrades and with several Humvees idling just behind the guard shack. Those goddamn weenies in the command center didn't want to hear it. They had sent the reserve squad to the freaking hospital instead of helping him out.

The only reason the gates had held this long is the build-up after 9-11. Worried about terrorists, the fencing surrounding the base had been upgraded with poles sunk deep into concrete for added strength. The front gate had been replaced with anti-vehicle gating that was, by specs, able to stop a fully loaded truck. Looking out at the sea of dead and mutilated faces rocking the fence Kilgore believed they had got their moneys worth.

"Sergeant!!" Private Johnson interrupted his moment of silence.

"Yes?" Kilgore replied

"Sergeant we are running low on ammunition, can I send Parker to pick up some more?"

"Hell yes we aren't going to keep them out long without it." The Sergeant answered.

"Aye Aye Sergeant!" and with that Johnson scurried away.

Something curious in the crowd caught Kilgore's eye. The people (were they still people?) arriving on the other side of the crowd were desperate to get at the marines. Those that still had working arms clawed and beat on those in front of them to get past. Sometimes little fights would break out as two bodies fought with each other for a better position. Ripping pieces of flesh and clawing deeply into each other until an opening was created for another to pass. Some would fall, only to be crushed under the crowd moving up to fill the space. So they weren't coordinated. They appeared to think only of themselves and attacked anything in their way. Hell they may have torn apart and trampled more of their own than his marines had shot.

Just then an engine could be heard on the road leading up to the base. The sentry on the roof of the guard shack called down to Kilgore.

"Sergeant, It's another civvie car trying to get in." The private said.

As the private looked out over the sea of heads the speeding Suburban began to try and push its way through the crowd to the gate. The vehicle got slower and slower as the surrounding crowd turned to beat and grab onto the car. The family inside, panicked and under siege began honking the horn for help. That only incensed the crowd more and more bodies turned from the fence to get at the car. The driver, seeing no way to move forward put the car in reverse and jammed on the accelerator. Backing up too quickly he jumped the curb and rammed the back of the car into a metal signpost. The rear window shattered and instantly bodies still by the back of the vehicle crawled into the now open car. The screams of those inside could be heard, then gunshots, wild and quick. In his haste to shoot at the monsters piling into the car the driver shot out the back side windows allowing more into the already crowded vehicle. Finally the shooting stopped and all was quiet except for the running engine and the moans of delight from the things inside.

Kilgore could hear the quiet crying of the marine on the roof of the guard shack. Poor kid, he thought. Nothing in their training or their time in Iraq had trained them for this shit. His troops, hearing the vehicle had stopped firing. Now the marines stood, exhausted after only a few hours of this battle. The wind blowing in from the ocean brought with it smoke that burned their eyes and the smell, that copper smell of fresh blood was everywhere. With the distraction of the vehicle even the things on the other side of the fence had stopped moving. But they still stared, with those vacant glazed over eyes, almost as if they were thinking of a plan.

Just then a hand reached through the fence and grabbed the flash suppressor on one of his troops M-16's. The bones of the fingers were clearly visible grasping and pulling the weapon through the fence. The marine at first let go of the weapon and then stepped closer to pull it back. Seeing what was going to happen Kilgore let out a yell.

"STOP!!" the sergeant bellowed.

The private turned his head to see what the sergeant wanted. With surprising speed another hand flashed through the fence and gripped the lapel of the marines BDU jacket.

The dead hand, feeling something solid, yanked back. Kilgore could see the look of horror on the marines face as he felt himself jerked into the fence. Instantly fingers and teeth snatched at his clothing and skin. The thrashing desperate fingers bloodied many missing digits grasped desperately at the marine.

Other marines ran to his aid, although they were extremely careful to stay far from the fence. The young marine was struggling again the fence and was finally pulled clear. The side of his face and his arms all had gashes and tears. Several bite marks were clearly visible. Blood seeped out all over his body. As the others pulled him back to one of the humvees he fainted.

The fence had ceased to rock and Kilgore could see the steady pressure of bodies filling up behind it was relentlessly pushing it in. With regret he sees that was only going to be a matter of time until the fence gave. Unless he could think of some way to relief some of that pressure.

Welcome to the Meat Grinder

The reserve squad rolled into the base hospital parking lot in two humvees. PFC Thurber drove the first. Thurber nervously slowed the vehicle as they approached. First floor windows were broken, car alarms were blazing and people were everywhere. Some were running, obviously trying to get away from the building, others slower, almost aimless. As the squad exited their vehicle they looked toward the helipad, there was a bird there, a med lift helo, its blades slowly turning but no one was in it.

"Let's check it out marines!! On me." Sgt. Fore called out.

The marines, already worried about the situation gathered into a loose V shape, their weapons cocked and at the ready. In fact the scene looked a little like their patrols in Ramadhi. As they came closer to the chopper they noticed something was wrong, they couldn't see through the windscreen. The whine of the turbines was loud. Sgt. Fore held his fist up to stop the squad, and then motioned for Carelli and Masters to move up to check the bird. As Carelli moved forward, his mouth suddenly filled with bile. The fucking windscreen was covered in blood. Masters moved up and pulled open the cockpit door. Inside two mutilated bodies sat strapped to the seats. The copilot's head was gone; the windscreen was completely coated with blood and gore on the inside.

As Masters reached into the cockpit to grab a pistol dropped in between the seat the pilot suddenly strained against his restraints and bit into masters shoulder.

"FUCK ME" Masters screamed. "Get this guy off me!!" The pilot gripped masters uniform in his teeth, gnashing and pulling to pull some off. Carelli leaned over and tried to pull the pilot away by the helmet. Already unsnapped the helmet came loose, revealing a clearly dead face. While the helmet had saved the pilots head and face, the entire neck below the helmet was ripped and torn. The bones of the spine were clearly visible on one side. In horror, Carelli did the only other thing he could think of in close quarters to his friend. He smashed the butt of his M-16 down onto the top of the pilot's head. With a crack the pilot's body instantly went limp and released its grip. Masters fell back free of the aircraft,

"What the hell was that?" screamed Masters.

"Dunno, but I wanna get the hell outa here." Carelli replied.

Masters shoulder felt terrible, bruised maybe scratched. Oh well he's check it out later, since he didn't want to take his gear off now to look.

Quickly searching the rest of the aircraft they found only signs of struggle and death.

Turning his attention back to the hospital building Sgt. Fore noticed something different now. The area was clear of people running, all those left were either on the ground dead or dying or shuffling around. Looking again, Fore noticed that wasn't quite right. All those left standing were shuffling toward his squad. About 20 people were in view; all were in various stages of obvious injury. All were bloody. As they walked they moved in a straight line toward the squad, sometimes bumping into obstacles before finding a path to continue their walk. They never looked down, or around or even seemed to care about their injuries. Their eyes stayed locked on the marines. Not exactly knowing what to do Sgt. Fore yelled, "Form up… tactical withdrawal!"

The marines pulled themselves out of the sights around them and formed up. Finding what cover there was and orienting themselves toward the threat.

Fore yelled to the closest person walking toward them, a marine by the uniform he was wearing but much of his face had been ripped off. His teeth showed clearly against the red wash of blood and skin hanging from his peeled back cheek.

"Halt!" Fore yelled. The Marine coming closer never even flinched

"I said halt, get down on the ground with your hands flat on the pavement!!" Fore boomed again, raising his weapon but knowing he couldn't pull the trigger on a fellow marine.

The ravaged marine never took his eyes off the Sergeant. Now that he was closer Fore could see that the Captain, he could now see the bars, was clearly not …what…living? Sane? He was growling. A low guttural growl that Fore could now hear from the rest of the group approaching them.

The marines were getting more concerned. The crowd was closing to an uncomfortable distance. PFC Master's…still in shock and a little freaked out about the pilot's biting at him, brought his weapon up and zeroed in on one of the crowd. It was a nurse, but her whole side was bloody. Something had ripped into her just below her arm. Her white uniform crimson and hanging in tattered off her left side.

It was decision time for Sgt. Fore. The marine was now only about 10 feet away and was not stopping. Fore raised his weapon and aimed at the marine center mass.

"Dammit, Halt, Don't make me do this marine!" Fore said one last time.

Suddenly with the crack of a high velocity round the injured marines head exploded.

"INCOMING FIRE" Screamed Fore.

The crack of the shot broke Masters last nerve. His finger tightened on the trigger and a three round burst tore into the nurses chest. She stumbled backwards as the rounds hit her and then, regaining her balance moved forward again toward the marines.

The rest of the squad hearing the incoming fire call and then master's shots had enough. They started firing at everything that moved. The sound of gunfire echoed among the buildings as the squad fired into the advancing injured. Most rounds hit exactly where they were supposed to, center mass, but some hit limbs and a few heads. It took most of the marines a minute to realize that the body shots did not stop the oncoming, only headshots seemed to stop them.

CRACK another high velocity round took off the head of a Pepsi delivery guy with a mangled arm. He dropped in his tracks. Sgt. Fore looked over the scene, he was quickly losing control of the situation. Although the initial group of twenty was down to about nine, there was more of the injured pouring around the corner and through open doors.

CRACK.. Another body ceased to move. Where the hell was the sniper fire coming from? Fore wondered as CRACK another shot erased another attacker. Fore was unable to comprehend what was happening. A scream off to his right caught his attention. One of his marines reloading had been caught off guard. Two of the things had grabbed him and pulled him back behind the helo. His screams echoed among the buildings. Before he could say anything two of his PFC's ran back behind the helo to help their comrade. Shots rang out and suddenly a grenade went off. Shrapnel ringing of the metal surfaces around the sergeant. Another of his marines yelled and grasped his side as he was hit by a flying piece of metal. From around the side of the helo came more of the injured. Apparently his men were gone.

CRACK. Fore looked at his situation. He was down three men, which left him with nine. The crowd had been growing steadily and it was apparent that they would be overwhelmed soon. Another of his men lost it and ran forward into the coming people shooting and stabbing until he was pulled down to the ground by the crowd and Fore lost site of him.

FALL BACK TO THE HUMVEES!!" Fore yelled. Not needing any other encouragement three of the men grabbed the shrapnel injured marine and made a run for the humvee. Quickly dispatching the people around the vehicle the men piled in. Sgt. Fore and the remaining troops ran toward the remaining humvee. Firing and moving the troops reached the vehicle and dove inside. The ballistic glass and reinforced doors were enough to keep the bodies that made it to the vehicle.

Then inexplicably, the driver's door opened on the other vehicle. Perhaps Collins had seen someone he knew? But for some reason he stepped out of the vehicle firing his weapon and was immediately swamped by the gathering crowd. Seeing the vehicle driverless the other marines lowered their windows and began firing into the crowd desperately trying to get themselves safe. Injured fell in droves but more staggered at the open door. Screams of fear and pain filled the air, almost drowning out the rumble of the engine, and then suddenly it was silent. The other vehicle sat running, blood smeared on the windows as the crowd reversed direction to get at the remaining troops.

With a guttural yell of anguish, Sgt. Fore jammed the accelerator down and drove away from the killing ground with only four of his twelve men.

…….On a nearby rooftop, Colonel Mathews finally took his eye away from the sniper scope.

"What a damn waste." He said to himself. He had tried his best to keep them safe but… in the end it hadn't mattered. The director of the sniper school looked out over the parking lot. Twenty of the dead were his. Not too bad he thought. As more of those things filled the street moving after the humvee a thought occurred to him. If I can reach that humvee I might be able to get to get the hell out of here. He had no provisions here and it had only been blind luck that he had been cleaning his rifle when this had gone down.

As he collected his things he took a deep breath. Go down through the building or over the fire escape? The rhythmic pounding on the roof access door made up his mind for him. Fire escape it is.

Situation FUBAR

Gunny Sykes watched with growing dread at the situation in the command center. The Colonel in charge had left a few minutes ago and a PFC had just returned to say that the Colonel had locked himself in his office. The overheads showed a worsening situation. San Diego was lost. Any units still mobile were told to head inland, not to return to the base. Now Southern Orange County was being affected. The base itself was in deep shit. A freaked out Sgt, had just called in that he had lost almost all of his reaction squad at the hospital and the main gate was stopped calling for reinforcements. Gunny thought about his dilemma. Stay and help here or return to the rest of his team and hold there. As the situation in the room became increasingly panicked there was a sudden gunshot. Racing to an office door down a short hallway a crowd was already gathered by the door. The plate on the door read Colonel Severs. After fumbling with the keys with shaking fingers an MP opened the office. There at the desk was the Colonel in charge. Slumped over in his chair, head resting on his desk. With a picture of his family in front of him he had shot himself in the temple. The gun lay next to his limp arm and the wall was coated with his brains. It was not a pretty sight.

"Damn" a corporal said. " I forgot. His wife didn't want to live on base. They had a house in San Diego. I saw him on his cell phone, I guess they didn't make it out."

"Who the hell is going to take charge now?" a shaky private said.

Word quickly spread that the officer in charge had offed himself. As soon as this word made the rounds men began to leave, some just leaving their work stations and wandering around, others leaving their post completely, probably trying to find a way back to their loved ones.

Well that's that thought Gunny I am out of here. I don't need some freaked out marine stealing my ride out of here.

The command center was now in utter chaos, the perimeter was breached, the hospital was lost and now command authority was ordering all securable facilities to be locked up. Somebody had pulled out a am/fm radio and turned it on. The radio blared a San Diego radio station.

"The CDC had determined that a virus that they had been following loosely in Central America had made it over the border. At first it was just in sparsely populated areas of Honduras, but when it had made it to Mexico it really took off. Road systems and panicked public spread it faster. It is unlike anything they have ever seen but as of this morning the CDC has not gotten a single sample. Every team sent to investigate succumbed to what they thought was just a virulent disease. But unlike other diseases this virus apparently kills its host and then reanimates it. These infected only have a single purpose, to infect others and propagate the virus. CNN is reporting that unable to get a sample the government had kept quiet about the outbreak. Meanwhile the government had been formulating a contingency plan. Unfortunately the outbreak has torn through Tijuana and spread across the border before the plan was finalized. We are under siege here and hope that everone who can hear us get's the hell out of town. Do not try and make it to mission bay or the airport. We can see explosions and fires everywhere. I can see several navy ship steaming out although one seems to have run aground near the airport. Just get out of town. These crazies are everywhere."

Every head in the room swung around as the printer bell rang on the duty officer's desk and the printer spat out a command directive.

TO: All Southern California Battle Capable Military Units

From: CINCPAC

All units capable of safe movement are to head east to quarantine lines. Take only what material can be safely carried and quickly gathered. Regular and National Guard units are setting up evacuation points across the Colorado river and at mountain passes and other choke points in Northern Los Angeles County and Western San Bernardino, Riverside County. Texas units are setting into blocking positions along the Rio Grande. Do not try to engage the infected at this time. All units capable of movement should immediately do so.

AIR ASSETS…

Air assets should fly to uninfected areas without taking time to arm. Contact Nellis control to receive your air deployment instructions. Ground crews and other high priority personnel should be airlifted with aircraft. Other personnel should leave immediately by ground transport, reuniting with aircraft at new airfields. Proceed to Nellis AFB, Las Vegas, NV for reassignment.

ALL UNITS….

ANY personnel that have bites or injuries from infected are to be considered infected and dangerous. All personnel so described must be destroyed by severing the spinal column or destroying the brain. TO REPEAT ONLY HEADSHOTS OR DECAPITATION WILL STOP THE INFECTED. To help in personnel losses management and notification of next of kin please remove one set of dog tags after injured personnel have been destroyed.

Any facility that can be sealed completely and has communications and supplies can be used for a shelter in case your unit is surrounded. Only hardened shelters or completely sealed off locations should be used, as the infected seem to be drawn to the sight and sound of living humans. If you must hold in place, hunker down and DO NOT ENGAGE UNLESS NECESSARY FOR IMMINENT THREAT. Weapons fire and other human activity can draw more infected than possible to eliminate. Maintain radio contact on Alpha channels.

Evacuating units should use I-40 and I-15 as primary egress roads. It is possible that in the next few hours those roads may become impassable so use other roads at your discretion. All roads leading to mountainous areas or allowing for a choke point will be used to stop infected and allow the passage of refugees and troops. NO INFECTED/NON REANIMATED PERSONNEL SHOULD BE BROUGHT ALONG. ANY UNITS BRINGING INFECTED/NON REANIMATED PERSONNEL WILL BE QUARANTINED.

NAVAL UNITS…

All naval units in the PACOM theatre that are within 24 hours of the Western US should move immediately to their home port. Those from Pearl or other non-mainland ports will be given assignments under separate cover. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO LAND PERSONNEL OR DOCK IN PORT. ALL SHIPS ARE TO REMAIN ONSTATION OFFSHORE AND WAIT INSTRUCTIONS. Naval assets in So Cal will be used to evacuate high priority civilian and military personnel. Ships in port should immediately move offshore.

This is a trying situation for us all. I understand many of you have dependents in the quarantine area. The United States Military will do everything it can to ensure their safety but to do so you must continue to follow your superior's orders and maintain discipline. We can and will overcome this crisis.

Good luck and God speed,

Admiral William Fallow

CINCPAC

PACOM

The crowd stood around the printer in shock. Gunny looked at the paragraph and thought, we are really in the shit now.

"Sentries are reporting activity outside." One of the MP's ran in and announced.

Gunny didn't take another second to decide. He sure as hell didn't want to be trapped in this windowless tomb waiting to see what was gonna happen. As he raced to the front door he could see the marine guards piling in through the open doorway. He could hear firing outside.

"What the hell are you doing marine!!" Gunny yelled, trying to make himself heard over the growing gunfire.

"Sorry gunny but we have orders to button the place up."

"But we have men outside" Gunny replied.

"Well gunny you can either stay in here with us or get out there with those things but my orders are to close the doors now." The head MP answered.

Gunny, squinting into the bright light pouring into the darkened building pulled out his sidearm, pulled back the slide and stepped out into the chaos outside.

"Fuck it" he said as the door slammed closed behind him.

ENEMIES AT THE GATES

The crowd outside the gates had grown to an unimaginable size. His marines had stopped firing because they just couldn't see the point anymore. Sgt, Kilgore gathered his men together.

"Command is telling us to head east to quarantine lines. We are to muster at the chow hall and pick up any other troops we can. Word is these things are infected dead and a bite is fatal. " Kilgore told the assembled marines.

"We will be abandoning this post and moving as a group to the chow hall. Then we will proceed overland out the east side through the live fire area. " Kilgore said as he looked out over the 11 remaining troopers. "Where's Simmons?"

"Over in the first vehicle sergeant" Colman answered "After getting thrashed on the fence he isn't feeling too well."

Kilgore sighed softly, shit he wasn't looking forward to this and he hoped his other marines wouldn't react poorly.

Stepping quickly over to the vehicle Kilgore swiftly lifted his sidearm and fired a single bullet into Simmons head. It was so fast that Simmons face didn't even have time to register surprise. Kilgore's marines started to yell and back up from the sergeant.

"It had to be done men," Kilgore yelled over the surprised cries of his men." Command says that a single bite is fatal and those that are killed by these things will rise and attack those around them. We have been ordered to dispose of any troops that are infected. Look I'm sorry but those are our orders and I aim to see the rest of us survive this. Now lets load up. "

"Peterson!! Get up on the guard shack roof and police up the equipment. Perez, get in the shack and radio command that we are leaving the area."

As the sergeant was moving to the vehicle he heard a slight creak…and then another. Looking back with horror he saw a twenty foot section of fencing next to the gate finally give in to the sheer force of bodies pressed up against it.

The sea of bodies flooded into the gap, sensing a change in the situation the remaining bodies along the fence began to more violently rattle it. Some of his marines froze and stared in wonder at the oncoming threat. That hesitation cost them their lives because they were quickly cut off. The fence behind them and the oncoming crowd in front of them. The crowd, now hundred thick and growing by the second completely surrounded the guard shack. And had surround 5 of his marines. Perez was screaming inside the guard shack, and Peterson was standing terrified on the roof looking down at the sea of dead that surrounded him.

Kilgore turned to his remaining four marines "Get in the vehicle and get to the mess hall, I'll be right behind you."

As the other men piled into the waiting hummer and drove off, Kilgore weighed his options. He couldn't fire into the crowd without hitting his men and moving on foot to them was impossible. Suddenly the rumble of the hummers engine brought his mind back around. Its hummer time he thought.

Jumping in behind the wheel Kilgore release the lock on the roof hatch and jammed on the gas. The humvee surged ahead. The bodies ahead, hearing the mechanical sound turned just in time to be rammed and crashed beneath the huge vehicle. The truck jumped and bounced as it crushed bodies beneath its wheels. Moving swiftly through the crowd the vehicle suddenly burst into a 30-foot circle. The marines inside firing wildly in all directions. As the humvee slid to a halt the marines piled in and the crowd moved forward to close the gap. The stinking wretched bodies pounded on the windows, sides and hood. The marines, clearly in shock sat numb. Unfortunately Kilgore didn't have time, if they didn't move soon they would clearly be overwhelmed. Slowly Kilgore forced an opening in the crowd and began to move toward the guard shack.

Cutting close to the building Kilgore scraped the side of the building to leave no gap. Peterson stood on the roof, eyes darting from broken bloody upturned face to another. When the other humvee had left he had thought his life would end up here on this roof. Now looking down on the roof of the humvee the gunners hatch popped open and the marines inside were yelling for him to jump down.

Perez inside the shack below Peterson looked at the mangled faces and arms that were pressed up against the glass. Teeth gnashing, they were desperate to get to him. Out the other side he could see the humvee, pressed up against the building, the faces inside yelling something at him.

Peterson was terrified. The hatch looked so small from up here, and just past it, beating on the side of the vehicle were those things. Looking up hungrily at him, they were beating the side and roof just inches from the hatch. He looked out at Oceanside, his home for 3 years now. It lay shrouded in smoke from out of control fires. The inhabitants slowly making their way up the hill and through the hole in the fence. Below him the arms of the marines were reaching up through the hatch, beckoning him to jump.

He jumped. His boots flew perfectly through the hatch and thunked onto the seat inside, he was safe. Then a funny thing happened. As his body continued to fall, his weapon, which he had slung across his back, got caught on the outside ring of the gunners hatch. His downward movement ceased. As he leaned forward to free his weapon he suddenly felt his weapon strap pulling him up toward the outside of the hatch. His body was in a tug of war. The marines inside trying to pull him into safety and the bodies outside desperate to bite him. Unfortunately, with the gun stuck on the hatch the marines couldn't make headway and with a final yank Petersons legs slipped out the hatch and his screaming could be heard the crowd.

Perez saw all this happen. The jump to safety and then those things just pulled him out. He decided that he wasn't going out there again. He would wait here until it was all over. In the vehicle outside the window the marines were screaming at him to do something. Instead he clutched his weapon tightly and slipped down and curled up under the desk.

Kilgore saw the look on Perez face before he slipped out of view. He had given up and no matter what they said Kilgore new they would never get him out of that shack. Not that he had a plan anyway, but with a fighting spirit a marine can improvise. Perez was clearly lost. Although it killed Sergeant Kilgore to leave a man behind he saw no alternative. If he waited much longer the marines he had managed to save would be dead too.

"I will come back for you Perez" Kilgore yelled as he pulled away from the guard shack. "Stay alive and we will be back."

The humvee slowly ground its way through the growing crowd around the shack and once clear rumbled up the base road toward the mess hall.

Inside the shack the moaning and pounding of the crowd outside replaced the rumble of the humvee. Perez started to cry as he realized that although he wasn't dead yet, he would never leave this little room again. Everywhere he looked out the windows the faces were looking down at him mouths open, fingers, broken and bloody, scratching at the windowpanes.

In the end it wasn't a hard decision. He didn't want to become one of them and the crowd got more agitated every time he crawled out to look at them.

The freshly oiled gunmetal tasted funny in his mouth

"God forgive me"

BANG.

**Thank God for My Gillie Suit**

Colonel Mathews leaned over the edge of the roof and looked down. The marine force that had arrived at the hospital, what was left of it, had just roared away from the hospital, leaving their second humvee running. The parking area between the hospital and the Colonels perch was a sea of vehicles and bodies. Luckily it appeared that the infected seemed to follow the uninfected. In fact, in the time that he had been watching, the Colonel noticed that those things were single minded. Any human presence and they went for it, ignoring other targets in their area. As the humvee had rolled away back toward base ops the mindless crowd had followed it. That left only a few stragglers. None seemed aware of anything, just swaying back and forth in place as if waiting for some sign of the uninfected.

Mathews looked down at his gear. He had his rifle, the new M-40A3. The A3 was a replacement for the old M-40A1. He had received it only a few months ago and had fallen in love with it since then. It was heavier than the A1 but it was much more comfortable to shoot and with a range of over 1000 yards he had become even a better shot than before. This rifle had already saved his life. He had been cleaning it when the shit had hit the fan. Although not a close up weapon it had worked well enough on the few infected that had gotten in his way on the way to the roof. He shot two of the damn things and then had used the heavy rifle to bash in the head of another 3 along the way. He had reached the roof and barricaded the door behind him. After about 15 minutes on the roof the response force had pulled up below him. Unfortunately he had been taking a piss on the other side of the roof until he had heard the yelling. By then it was too late to warn them. That is why he had just entered into his work mode and fired at as many of the damn things as he could to help those poor marines.

He looked into his bag. He had 50 more 7.62mm rounds for the rifle, his ANPVS-10 night scope, his spotter's scope and his gillie suit. Not a great way to start the end of the world. No food, no water and damn sure not enough rounds. If only he could find a way to move to another location but that damn humvee is too far away.

The suit…. that's it, the Colonel thought. Wearing the suit gave the sniper great camouflage, and more importantly disguised the human form. I'll wear the suit and crawl to the vehicle if I have to. The bodies walking the parking lot below seemed to ignore any none human forms. Mathews had seen dogs and cats running around without getting attacked. Maybe the damn things key in on the human form?

So after putting on the suit, a pair of BDU's with different shades of green and brown cloth tied to it, he strapped his rifle to his back and tied his gear onto a rope. Mathews slowly lowered the gear bag over the side of the building. He let the back slowly descend to the ground. Peeking over the edge he saw that none of the things had taken a particular interest to it. With the patience that came with his trade the Colonel slowly moved to the top of the ladder and waited. He knew that if he moved too fast he was dead. If he looked human, he was dead. It might take him a long time to get to that hummer but Mathews knew he had the patience to make it.

It had to be mid afternoon, he thought, as the sun was baking him in the gillie but it was his only protection. The smoke had gotten worse as more buildings and vehicles had caught fire. It reminded him a little of Iraq, but that had been a cakewalk compared to this. At least in Iraq the enemy wouldn't eat you. There the Colonel had perfected his craft. One day in Ramadhi, he and another sniper had taken out an entire platoon of insurgents. They never realized what had hit them. They had given him a medal for it, something about saving the lives of countless other Marines. He eased himself slowly down the ladder taking about a minute to move each step. Mathews knew that his ally was his ability to control his muscles and move slowly. Every few minutes a scream or other noise would rile up the infected and they would head in the direction of the sound. They wandered aimlessly below him in the parking lot. Every now and then one would cast its dead eyes over him. But to them he just looked like a bush. Granted a bush on a wall would stand out to you and me, but to a dead reanimated body it wasn't worth a second glance. A bush just wasn't on their menu.

An hour later his feet hit the ground. Forty rungs in one hour, his legs were screaming in pain. His body sweating profusely under the gillie suit. God I hope they can't smell sweat Mathews thought. is HisHe slowly slid to a lying position under a nearby bush and surveyed the situation. The humvee was still running, sitting about 50 feet from his position. There were more infected around, maybe 30 now but they had given him no notice. All he had to do was crawl across the grass, into the street and jump into the vehicle.

He had made it across the grass and into the street without too much trouble. One of the damn things had stepped on him and another had tripped and fallen over him but had gotten up without noticing him. That had been a little hairy. A civvie, or off duty marine, had wandered onto the grass following some echo of a scream from down the block. Its whole arm was mangled, obviously ripped and chewed off. Without even noticing him it had stumbled into him, kicking him in the ribs. The thing had gone down hard, flipping over him and onto the grass. It had not even lifted its hands to protect itself and had hit face first. Mathews had to stifle a laugh at that one. It was like those clips you see on the TV of people doing stupid things. Anyway Mathew's fingers had tightened around the grip of his K-bar, ready to jump up and strike but the damn thing had just gotten up and continued toward the receding sound.

Mathews moved his camouflaged body with slow deliberateness. Stopping now and then to wait while a body shambled by. As fate would have it he crawled passed one of the response team marines bodies and had liberated his M9 Beretta 9mm and the extra clips. Unfortunately the rustling of the body caused some of the infected to take notice and a few walked over to make sure the marine was truly dead. They were only inches away as they pulled at the body chewing off fingers, bits of flesh, any skin they could easily get at. But evidently what they really like is fresh meat because after a few minutes they let the body alone and shuffled off in different directions.

Mathews had finally reached his destination. He was lying just below the open drivers side door. Inside he could see that the driver's side was clear and interestingly the passenger seat was empty too. There was no movement in the back. He slowly pulled the gear bag in that he had been dragging behind him.

Although sore, tired and on the verge of heat exhaustion, Colonel Mathews popped up to a knee and held the Beretta out in front of him. Even being quiet a few of the bodies caught sight of him but they were at least twenty feet away. Mathews turned toward the vehicle and fired a single shot into the head of the soldiers in the back seat. Weather they were reanimated or not he didn't want to worry about what was behind his seat while he was driving. The shots reverberated between the buildings and out of the hospital and surrounding buildings poured 50 maybe 100 of the infected, shuffling or walking toward him. The closest was still about ten feet away. He threw the gear bag into the humvee and jumped in after it, slamming the door shut as the first of the dead reached the truck. Within seconds fists, stumps and heads were pounding the sides of the truck. The smell was overpowering. Mathews, gulping in breath looked out at the surrounding crowd, nurses, doctors, marines and civilians all wanting one thing – to get to him. Mathews laid the Beretta on the passenger seat and put the humvee into gear.

Driving through the base was strange and disturbing. It had obviously been overrun. The apartment building, many on fire, teemed with the infected. The Colonel could tell which apartments still had people because of the crowds desperately trying to break in. No one living was on the streets now. Every once in a while a vehicle would come roaring out of nowhere and pass him. They were wild in their driving obviously just trying to get away, not thinking of where they were going. Mathews was sure the only place left was the Ops Center or the Armory. He would try the Ops Center first and see if he could find out if there was any hope.

As he drove past the parade ground hundreds of the things were milling about finally turning and walking toward the sound of the vehicle. Suddenly they all stopped and looked up. That's when Mathews heard it. The distinctive thumping of a helicopter or more specifically the beautiful sound of the AH-1 Cobra attack helicopter. He saw it coming in low from the south, straight toward the parade ground. And then the bodies on the field just started to explode. The nose mounted 20mm cannon spitting its retribution into the crowd below. The infected didn't run and didn't try to dive to the ground. They stood staring, snarling at the helicopter as it banked to make another turn and began firing again into the remaining group of infected. Clouds of dirt and blood and body parts flew everywhere as the cobra expended its ordinance onto the field. As it banked away Mathews surveyed the damage. Out of 100 only a handful maybe three were still standing, of those on the ground only a few others, not hit in the heat or blown apart were trying to move.

Someone had finally decided to get off their ass and bring the fight to these bastards. Mathews put the vehicle in gear and continued on to the ops center. Maybe today wasn't a total cluster fuck after all.

The OK Corral

Gunny Sikes blinked in the mid day sun. The light was dazzling and his ears were assaulted with a thunder of gunfire. As he squinted he could see his marines had backed the humvee's up to the building and were using them as makeshift barricades and firing positions. Gunny smiled. Even in this fucked up situation they were using good fire control. They were taking their time, aiming carefully and taking single shots. The same could not be said for the few other troops that had straggled in. They were firing full auto, burning through their small supply of ammo very quickly. The dead were following the noise. As much as they fired, the infected were replaced two to one and it looked to be getting worse. Out of his peripheral vision he saw a movement and swing around to face a dead woman coming around the side of the building behind their makeshift perimeter. A single shot of his berretta drilled a neat whole in her forehead. He jumped into the first humvee. The radio was a haze of frantic calls for help and the occasional scream. There was no way he was getting through to the guys back at the 'fort.'

Just then a scream snapped his head back around, the dead had flanked them and were grabbing at the men on the end of the barricade. Two of his men and three stragglers were fighting off about fifteen of the damn infected that had come around behind them. Unfortunately a few of his men ran over to join the fight allowing the crowd on the other side of the humvee to get closer. Then, as if in slow motion, he saw the stupidest thing a marine had done in his 20 years in the corps. One of the beleaguered marines pulled out a grenade. Sikes screamed for the marine to stop but in agony and being eaten alive, the private pulled the pin. The spoon flipped off into the crowd. Sikes yelled for the others to hit the deck but it was too late. The explosion ripped through the crowd of men and infected, unfortunately being so close to the humvee it also blew out the front tires and windscreen. Flying metal, dirt and body parts flew everywhere. A further half of his men went down with varying degrees of shrapnel wounds. The screams of the wounded sent the growing undead crowd into a frenzy. Gunny felt his vehicle start to slide as the mass of bodies on the other side pushed it closer to the building.

Jumping out Gunny motioned his remaining two uninjured troopers to load in any other marines that were unbitten. Several of the wounded volunteered to stay behind and keep the crowd off the vehicle until it was gone. They knew that without hospitalization, they weren't going to make it anyways and they were sacrificing themselves so their fellow marines could get out alive.

Gunny gave the men the remaining grenades and wished them well. He asked for and received a single dog tag from each and said that he would get them to their families if he could.

The wounded were loaded and the men were piling in to the humvee when the dead finally breached their makeshift barricade. They flooded into the little space was left. Gunny slid the humvee into gear and roared into the crowd. Bodies, frail and damaged fell and were crushed under the wheels. A few managed to grab onto the grill or were tossed onto the hood as the vehicle rushed through the crowd. Corporal Jenkins stood out the vehicle turret and shot the clingers in the head. It was a tense moment because with the bouncing of the vehicle a stray bullet could go into the engine or crack the windshield. Two loud bangs behind them announced that the defenders had given up, having given their fellow marines the time they needed to get away. Unfortunately the crowd had turned and was following the humvee back down the road toward their refuge. Off to their right they could see a cobra gunship streaking just above the rooftops, its cannons firing on something over by the parade grounds. The men in the backseat were screaming in pain, every jolt of the humvee jarring the shrapnel inside their bodies. As they raced across the main drag of the base a humvee came careening at them and swerved away at the last minute and then jumping wildly over the sidewalk turned to follow them. Whoever was driving was a good one Gunny thought as the vehicle stayed directly on their six not allowing enough distance for anything to get in between them. Finally at the outskirts of the base and heading up the dirt road back to the isolation area the two humvee's rumbled on, away from the chaos and death behind them.

Smoke rose from all over the base now and helicopters and some armored vehicles could be seen firing into crowds of the undead. Some of the armored vehicles, obviously out of ammo were just driving over large groups of the undead. It was almost comical. They would run down a large group, crushing them beneath their wheels, and then stop and pop open the top hatch and yell until another crowd had gathered. When enough of them surrounded the vehicle the driver would lurch forward into the crowd again, or pivot on its tracks and take out an entire group. The helicopters were buzzing over the base; expending ordinance into the infected and then, guns dry would pivot and head back towards San Diego. They were probably heading out to North Island NAS or perhaps a ship anchored in the harbor to rearm.

Finally the humvee's crested a hill and headed down towards the 'Fort.' The other humvee was still right behind them and farther down the hill was a crowd of infected emptying out of buildings and following the receding vehicles.

"Open the friggin doors!!" Private Carlson Yelled into the field radio from the back of the lead Humvee "The damn things can't be far behind us!! Open the Doors!"

Captain Hicks had been monitoring the situation on the radio and had been praying that his men would make it back in one piece. "Open the Gate" he shouted. The rest of you men mount the wall, we may have company."

The steel gate slid slowly open, the lead humvee not even waiting for it to be fully open before slipping through, ripping its passenger side mirror clean off. The second humvee flashed through the opening almost immediately and slid to a halt on the asphalt.

As the doors of the vehicles opened, the men inside spilled out, some injured, some not but all holding their weapons at the ready, nervously scanning the open gate as if the devil himself were about to stride through.

Gunny Sykes stood up from his prone position "Close it, close it, they are only about a half a click back, the goddamn things are coming out of every building to follow us." As the gate slowly closed, every soldier watched the ridgeline, waiting and wondering. With a loud screech the gate finally closed and engaged its lock. The marines splayed out around the humvee's finally let their weapons down and just laid their heads on the pavement, sucking in air and trying to make sense of the last few hours.

Ramirez, who was manning a .50 cal looked down at the group and wondered just what could have happened to make his fellow marines so scared, and now that he got a closer look at the group where was the bulk of 2nd squad.

Captain Hicks strode out to the men "Collins…see what you can do with these wounded, get them inside, and check them all for bites. Gunny, damn glad to see you!"

"Not as glad as I am to see you sir." Sykes replied. "It's FUBAR out their sir, everything's gone, these guys in the other humvee are what are left of the squad guarding the front gate. Oh yeah, tell the guys on the wall to not even bother shooting except for a headshot. Anything else may slow them down but will not put them down. "

Jonesy poked his head through the door of the building. "Sir I raised the Ronald Reagan, They are steaming back and forth off the coast flying sorties for NAS North Island. They said they can evac us later but for now we are on our own. They will listen in and if things get too hairy they might be able to give us some close air support."

"Did they say anything about the situation?" Hicks asked.

"Yessir, they said that as far as they can tell at Pendleton, it's us and a group of guys at the airfield bunkers and also at the armory. NAS North Island is doing all right now but they said it was hairy. The infected just kept streaming across the Coronado Bridge until they decided that the base was lost unless they dropped it." Jones smiled " They apparently dropped one right on the center span and blew it to shit. The marines mopped up once the infected couldn't get out to the base. They say the situation is stabilized and the air wing is being used by the marines for close air support."

"Right," Hicks called out "keep your ear on that radio."

"HERE THEY COME!!!" Shouted Ramirez.

Hicks ran up the stairs to the top of the wall. Swinging around to follow Ramirez gaze, Hicks beheld a terrifying sight. The infected, hundreds of them, shuffling and dragging themselves toward their small garrison, covered the entire crest of the hill. Suddenly the walls didn't seem thick enough.

"Jones…. Get on that radio and tell them we require some air support, and Porter, take some men and bring out more ammo, we are going to need it."

Remember the Alamo

The spent shells tinkled as they fell from the ejector port and gathered in a pile at their feet. Each man fired and fired into the mass. Gunny had told them to aim for the head but they hadn't believed it until each had tried to fire into the torso of one of the attackers. Unfazed the crowd had continued forward until each man had checked his fire and aimed exclusively above the shoulders. Then the ranks had started to be thinned out. The crowd of newly dead, some mangled with missing limbs, some showing obvious signs of burn damage, all stared blankly at their objective, the marines atop the walls. The crowd, hundreds of infected large just kept coming, only slowed slightly by the pile of what…re-dead, that they had to climb over to get to the living. The flood of former Oceanside residents staggered, determined toward the little walled compound.

The crowd kept coming, despite the efforts of his men. Magazine after magazine was emptied. For every one shot two more dragged themselves over the hill. These marines, many of them marksman level, destroyed head after head. Some popping, some disappearing in a misty blood cloud and still others simply falling like rag dolls. Some of the men puked on their feet as the smell of death and the reality of what they were doing hit them. They were shooting everything, fellow marines, and the little old lady down the street, even the kid that delivers the damn paper. Every possible age sex, race and occupation was in the steady stream of undead looking to get at them. Looking out over the increasing strength of the dead the men realized that if they didn't keep firing they would indeed be next on the menu.

"Jones…Where the fuck is that air support??" Hicks yelled in the door of the security room.

"They are diverting to us now sir." The radioman replied.

Hicks turned and looked up at his men on the walls. Each stood with his weapon at his shoulder firing two round bursts. Next to each sat a box of ammo, in clips, ready to fire. From here Hicks could see shells raining down from the weapons and rolling of the catwalk to the floor of the compound.

"Sir." Jones' voice brought Hicks back around "they are requesting someone to observe and correct fire. "

"Tell them I'll be on the roof." Hicks answered as he grabbed a handset and ran to the stairwell.

As Hicks burst out onto the roof his stomach leapt into his mouth. He tasted bile and spit onto the rooftop. In front of him just passed the walls, several hundred of the dead were assaulting his position, those infected he knew he could count on his men destroying. It was the next wave of the things that were being drawn by the firing, hundreds maybe a thousand strong that were continuing to flood over the hill toward his men that caused him concern. If they couldn't stem the flow the sheer force of all those bodies might breech the gate.

"Marine strike this is blackjack over." Hicks heard on the radio.

"This is strike go ahead blackjack" Hicks replied.

"Where do you want it? Pop smoke to mark target." Blackjack called.

"Negative blackjack! all friendlies are locked in the corral, anything outside the building perimeter is a target. We need you to drop what you have short of our position to the west. Target the hilltop and anything else between us and the base Acknowledged?"

"Acknowledged" called blackjack "will clear hilltop and areas west. Inbound 1 minute, tell your men to get ready."

"Thanks blackjack, if you save our ass I'll buy you a beer." Hicks laughed, if there were any bars left.

Hicks called down on the radio for his men to take cover. The shooting tapered off until all that could be heard was the moaning and snarling of the crowd moving ever closer to the building and the distant sounds of large bore weapons fire. One of the battleships in the harbor must be on a fire mission.

The two planes came in slow, tracing the ridgeline to get a feel for where the ordinance should be dropped. After a quick turn the two FA-18 hornets lined up above the crowd. At the sudden change in sounds, no firing from in front and the roar of the jet engines above the dead suddenly stopped, almost unsure of what to do. They stood mouths open reaching for the planes. Hicks saw the cylinder drop from the plane and dove for the rooftop.

The CBU-73 is a relatively simply weapon weighing in at around five hundred pounds. It holds three FAE (Fuel Air explosive) bomblets. At a preset altitude the bomblets are scattered to maximize damage area. Each bomblet pops open spreading an aerosol gas vapor roughly 80 feet long and then a small incendiary device ignites the vapor cloud. Not only does it destroy anything in the cloud but also the tremendous pressure wave tears apart unprotected personnel outside the immediate damage area.

It was a CBU-73 that dropped just on the other side of the hill from the pinned down marines. Showing no understanding or fear, the infected continued to track the plane as it sped away. Even the mist that settled over the crowd did not worry their dead and barely functioning brains.

The vapor cloud ignited with a thunderclap. The tightly packed infected disappeared within the fireball as they trudged up the hillside and still others walked right into the shockwave. The shockwave was particularly effective against the already weakened and torn dead. The bodies not initially vaporized were torn apart by the intense pressure of the wave. Arms, legs heads and torsos flew outward in all directions. Ripped up bodies flew outward tearing into further infected and disabling even more or the walking dead. 500 or more of the infected disappeared in the blink of an eye. With a banshee yell over the radio, the second FA-18 lined up to drop its ordinance on the crowd farther down the hill.

After the second blast the planes flew one more pass just at the crest of the hill. This time using their M61 20 mm cannons. It was as if someone had taken a lawnmower to overgrown grass. The shells raked the crest of the hill dropping everything in the way. The tightly packed crowd went down quickly. Bodies exploded, limbs were torn off, the carnage would be unimaginable yesterday, but today….nothing surprised the men.

The men on the walls stood and looked out. Although there was still hundreds of infected now reaching the wall, the hillside in front of them was empty and there were no more coming over from beyond. The men looked down on the hungry crowd as they stood, backs to the fort. It was only when the noise had ended and the planes had flown off that the infected turned back to the fort and began to close on the men inside. Civvies and marines, men, women and kids made up the crowd closing on the small refuge. All showing signs of violence but eerily some looked almost alive with only a small sign of trauma. Unfortunately they where all dead, infected, killed and reanimated by whatever had befallen them. The snarling crowd pushed back up against the walls arms raised above their heads as if they could reach up twenty feet and pull the marines off the wall. With a sigh of resignation the men slammed new magazines into their weapons and restarted the task of ending the misery of all those infected surrounding them.

30 minutes later a carpet of non-moving bodies lay around the walls of the fort. For two more hours the men waited, looking for movement. Anything that moved got another round in the head. After all movement had ceased the men, exhausted and sweaty collapsed where they stood, huge piles of spent casing crinkling underfoot. More than half the marines fell asleep as soon as their helmets touched the concrete.

Hicks watched as the worn out men passed out where they sat. He thought about calling gunny over and setting up policing and watch details but thought better of it. The men deserved a break. As he surveyed their surroundings he was comforted by how quiet it had suddenly gotten. No moaning or constant gunfire of the last few hours. Unfortunately the smell of gunpowder was being replaced by the smell of blood and bodies baking in the sun. How the hell was he going to dispose of all those bodies? He looked down into the compound and saw two 55-gallon drums of gas…

Barbeque time…

After letting the men sleep for a few hours, Hicks set up clean up and disposal crews. Bodies were pushed and pulled into loose piles that were then set on fire. Dog tags were taken off anyone in uniform for the next of kin to be notified. Soon the setting sun was blotted out by the black acrid smoke roiling off the piles of bodies that dotted the landscape around the fort. Several other groups of soldiers had come by since they had started the burning. Most of these were in tanks or armored fighting vehicles. They had sat in front of the gate and popped their roof hatches. Some were out of ammo and were replenished by the fort, others just wanted a break from the slaughter. Every single vehicle was coated in blood, almost as if someone had tried to paint them a camouflage of dark red. The crew of a tank talked about their runs back and forth across the base, just running down anything in their way. They would aim for the largest concentration of dead and gun the engine. Even in the tank they could feel the bounce as the chassis crushed groups that had gathered to bang uselessly on the thick armored skin of the tank. A few times some of the dead had gotten on their vehicle and had clawed and scratched at the thick skin until they threw it off and crushed it like the rest. Apparently there were armored vehicles all over the base. These lucky marines had either been in the vehicles when this all went down or got to the vehicles before the main gate had been lost. They traveled back and forth between the airfield, until it was lost in the late afternoon, the armory, where more marines were making their stand and the fort.

By late afternoon a small town of vehicles had assembled around the fort. A picket line of vehicles had been set out just below the crests of the surrounding hills to watch for approaching groups of the dead. The driver slept in the vehicle and the rest of the crews came into the fort for a few hours of protected rest.

Silenced weapons had been distributed to the pickets so that gunfire would not bring more of the dead. As men relaxed for the first time since sun up the sporadic pop of silenced weapons could be heard around the perimeter.

As night came to Southern California chaos reigned. Fires burned up and down the coast and roads were filled with refugee columns and the ravenous hungry dead following them. All of Southern California was affected now, No organized police or military presence was evident in the cities or in the columns of evacuees. At first, evacuees were allowed to leave the area by passing through military checkpoints manned by medical staff and platoons of soldiers. All infected, no matter what stage of injury were killed and burned. Unfortunately, because of the backup these inspections caused, the dead were attacking the ends of these columns and spreading exponentially.

At 3PM By order of the President, all roads leading out of the Southern California area were sealed. The threat of infection was rightfully thought to be too risky for the rest of the US. At the I-15 checkpoint, with the dead relentlessly tearing through the back of the column and the soldiers at their front, the crowd rushed the checkpoint. At first their was just pushing and shouting but then someone in the crowd of refugees shot their pistol in the air to urge the crowd forward. Unfortunately for him, the soldiers, rushed into place and told of the infections threat to their own families opened fire.

The effect was devastating, as the crowd recoiled and tried to escape, their vehicles began to explode as the rounds punctured their gas tanks and engines. Soon the I-15 pass at Cajon looked like Hell's Highway in Iraq. Dead bodies and burned vehicles stretched out in front of the soldiers.

Air units of the National Guard monitoring the advance of the dead relayed a message to national command. Something drastic had to be done or all was lost. The President and his cabinet took less than ten minutes to make the fateful decision. All means necessary should be used to stop the infection. All those still in the quarantine zone were to be considered infected. In the space of ten minutes 16.5 million people were given a death sentence.

Almost immediately air strikes began over the largest concentrations of people, both dead and living. Fuel air explosives and antipersonnel munitions were used to thin the ranks of people approaching military roadblocks. Every available air asset not being used along the Mexico border was used to patrol along the declared infection zone. Bullets, rockets and bombs rained down on every road and hillside leading out of Southern Cal. The refugees that were not caught in the initial attacks fled back away from the border. Most fleeing back to the cities and the waiting dead horde, but others, thinking of their impending death if they went home struck out into the mountains and deserts. These groups banded together for protection and some semblance of civilization. As the sun fell from the sky the border area was ablaze with napalm, The dead, almost as if sensing that the border held nothing but certain annihilation began to spread out and return to the cities to find the pockets of living still clinging to life.

The stunning use of force on American citizens shocked the world. While many complained that it was overkill and that a more humane solution should have been used, it did seem to stem the flow into the U.S. Unfortunately much of Mexico and Central America was disappearing. Huge areas were besieged and as darkness fell the affected area just kept getting larger. Large U.S. military aircraft were seen landing in every capital In Central America as embassies were shut and CIA, DEA, FBI and other officials both undercover and legitimate were airlifted out. By noon on day two there was no U.S. presence in Central America. Embassies and military bases left wide open. The world watched as signals and phone calls were suddenly silenced. Creeping southward, it would not be until the Panama Canal that the tide in Central America was stopped.

Meanwhile by the rise of the sun on the LA basin the damage was done. Fires raged uncontrolled. Jets and helicopters crisscrossed the quarantine line dropping ordinance on anything trying to breach the line. The troops manning the line, with only a few exceptions held well and were rewarded by the sound of artillery and air strikes moving farther and farther away from their positions. There was an outbreak in Needles California but with special forces squads backed up with gunship support it was quickly contained. Mountain roads were blasted so as to be impassable. Canyons were made into elaborate kill zones. Open areas were patrolled by aircraft until reserve and regular units were brought in. For over a week, every available aircraft and every railcar in the US (passenger or cargo) was commandeered to funnel men and material to the quarantine zone that stretched around Southern California and across Arizona and the Rio Grande in Texas.

Meanwhile in Oceanside, as across the rest of the southland, small groups of tired survivors tried to stay alive….

Hick's eyes opened like a shot. He had taken a few minutes to sleep on the cot in his office and instead found that gunny had let him sleep for 3 hours. Rubbing his bloodshot eyes and feeling the day old stubble on his face he stumbled into the coms room.

"Any word from command?"

"Yessir….By order of the President Southern California is quarantined. No one in or out. We are to hold our position and…get this sir…'Harass the enemy." The radioman answered.

Hicks shouted, " You're shitting me! They aren't coming to airlift us out?"

"Apparently not sir, although your presence has been requested on the Ronald Reagan Later today. We received a long list of procedures that must be followed before you get onto the helicopter. Oh and a med team from the MEU is inbound to check out everyone here. I guess for bites."

Hicks wandered out of the building and looked around the walled compound. Men were sleeping everywhere, anywhere flat, men were even sleeping on the bulky ammo containers they had been pulling out all night. He smiled, just like a marine to be able to get some shuteye during a zombie epidemic. He climbed the wall and surveyed the surrounding collection of filthy vehicles and men. He watched as one driver painted 'zombie stomper' on his Bradley. A sharp crack just over his head brought him back to the moment. Turning around he saw that about 8 snipers had gathered on the roof of the building, affording them a panoramic view of any approaching dead. A tall officer commanding the group waved down to him and motioned him to come up. Not knowing what the guys rank was he decided it was worth going to see what he wanted.

As he walked across the compound a scream arose from one of the sleeping marines. He sat upright to see the man that he thought was sleeping next to him taking a chunk out of his calf. Within seconds twenty marines surrounded the pair and the dead received about 4 bullets in its head. The injured marine lay there holding his leg writhing in pain. The medic arrived with two armed guards. "No…no…it will be OK!!" The Marine screamed. "Really maybe its not fatal, look it hurts but I'm not gonna die!!! Please…Please!!" The medic took out his kit and cleaned the wound, bandaged it up. As Hicks arrived he noticed the haunted look in the medics eyes. There was nothing he could do. They all new how bad this infection was. They searched the dead marine and found a bite mark on his shoulder..He had been trying to hide it and now it had cost them another Marine.

The injured Marine was given Morphine and he stopped trying to tell them he was fine. This was the new procedure. The injured were given mega doses of morphine and then shot. There was really nothing else to do for them except make them comfortable and make the end painless. As the drug began to calm the Marine down the medic and the two guards took him outside the walls for the last time.

"Gunny!!" Hicks yelled.

"Sir…"Gunny replied

"I want every man who enters here checked for bites. Strip everyone in here down and check everywhere. I don't give a shit. I don't want anymore men reanimating in this compound."

"Aye Aye Sir."

As Hicks went into the building the last thing he saw was the sergeants getting men up and into manageable groups and telling the men to strip for injury inspection. God help us if more men are hiding bites hicks thought as he climbed the stairs to meet the sniper officer on the roof.


End file.
